


i wanna make a supersonic man outta you

by stitchingatthecircuitboard



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: (very very brief, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, batfam, like five-words brief)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchingatthecircuitboard/pseuds/stitchingatthecircuitboard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the <em>fuck</em>, Dick,” he shouts, and Dick grins at him, hanging upside-down from one of the bare rafters in Jason’s apartment.</p>
<p>“Karaoke tonight, Little Wing,” he says, beaming. “Don’t forget.”</p>
<p>Even said with a smile, there’s something deeply ominous about the way Dick says it. It’s too…happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna make a supersonic man outta you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scripsero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scripsero/gifts).



> Happy birthday, [Julia!](http://vonnegutz.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thanks to [Beth](http://batgrrrls.tumblr.com/) for her speedy and short-notice beta.

“Jason,” Dick whispers. _“Jason.”_

Jason blinks open blearily and yells in alarm, falling off the bed and scrabbling instinctively for the gun under his pillow—

“What the _fuck,_ Dick,” he shouts, and Dick grins at him, hanging upside-down from one of the bared rafters in Jason’s apartment.

“Karaoke tonight, Little Wing,” he says, beaming. “Don’t forget.”

Even said with a smile, there’s something deeply ominous about the way Dick says it. It’s too…happy.

Jason rubs his tailbone, sore from where he’d bumped it in the fall. “Why,” he says suspiciously, but Dick’s angelic smile never wavers.

“Family night,” he carols, and flips over Jason’s head and out the window.

“Since _when_ have we ever—” Jason shouts after him, but Dick’s already a few rooftops away, frolicking merrily into the sunrise like some kind of fucking unicorn.

Sunrise. _Fuck._

Jason looks at the red 6:00 A.M. on his clock and swears softly again before crawling back beneath the ugly, mismatched blankets and falling deeply asleep.

 

He’s grocery shopping at the minimart two blocks from his apartment when Steph corners him, yellow hair bright above her purple—no, _eggplant_ —t-shirt. 

“Hey!” she says cheerfully, linking her arm through his and steering him away from the frozen dinners. “You going to this karaoke thing later?”

Jason snorts, extracting his arm from her grip. _“No,”_ he says firmly. She tugs him to a stop and shoves a box of frozen waffles into his basket. He wonders when his life got so out of control.

“What?” she says, raising an eyebrow. “If you’re going to survive on frozen foods, Jay, waffles are a great way to start the day.” She pokes at the packages beneath and makes a face. “Better than frozen pizza, anyways. So who’s going to be your karaoke buddy?”

“I’m not—”

“I’m going with Cass, of course,” Steph continues blithely. “And Babs asked Dinah, so Dick’s taking Damian—why—? You know, I never knew faces could do that.” She reaches up—is she _trying to poke his nose_ —and Jason recoils instinctively. Steph laughs, bright as a bell.

“See you at nine, Jaybird,” she sings, and skips away.

“I’m not going,” he calls, but the door squeaks shut behind her before he can get the words out. The cashier frowns at him, and Jason sighs and hands his basket over.

“She’s right, you know,” the cashier says sternly. “You should get some fresh fruit or something. Shouldn’t be living on this stuff.”

 

Babs calls him next.

“Hood,” she says, and thank fuck it’s business.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, and smiles when she laughs.

“Just a head’s up, thought you’d want to know—some of Black Mask’s old lieutenants, the one’s who escaped? One of them’s dealing in a schoolyard in your neighborhood.”

He freezes, and says grimly, “Tell me.”

She does, license plate, description, address. 

“You’re the best, O.”

“Don’t you forget it,” Babs says, but he can hear the edge of worry in her voice. “Oh—who’re you taking to karaoke?”

“For the love of—why the fuck does everyone think I’m going to this?”

“Oh come on,” she says. “Who doesn’t love karaoke?”

_“Me.”_

“Liar. I know for a fact you can do a mean cover of ‘Don’t Stop Me Now.’”

“Don’t you think that’s the tiniest bit creepy, Babs,” he says.

“Jerk,” she says, not really offended. “You were singing it when I came over last week.”

Oh. Right.

“Now that I think of it,” she muses, “Tim likes Queen, too.”

“Good _bye,_ Babs,” Jason says, and hangs up.

 

Damian wanders into his room as he’s pulling the helmet out.

“Todd,” he says coldly, and Jason almost drops the helmet.

“What are you—don’t tell me,” he says, and sets the helmet on the edge of his bed. “Karaoke?”

“Grayson thought you might require…persuading,” Damian says, tiny and terrifying in the doorway.

_“How,”_ Jason says, “did Dick ever get you to agree to this?”

“This is war,” Damian says, a manic glint in his eye. “Grayson and I will duel for our honor and our victory.”

“Through karaoke,” Jason says. “Just so we’re clear.”

“Yes.” Damian steps forward, and no ten-year-old should be this frightening, what the fuck. “You _must_ come.” He throws a glove at Jason’s feet. “Honor demands it.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jason says, unnerved. Damian narrows his eyes menacingly.

_“Bye,”_ Jason says, and flees, barely remembering to snag the helmet on his way out.

Babs is going to laugh at him for a month after this. Damian will never let him live it down.

 

It’s easy enough to find the dealer’s shitty apartment, thanks to Babs. He’s just about to bust in when something drops down into the alleyway behind him. Jason twists around immediately and groans.

“What are you _doing_ here,” he snaps.

Tim shrugs, peeling away from the shadows soundlessly. “Oracle said you could use some backup.”

“Like hell she did,” Jason hisses. Babs knows he can handle himself.

“You’re right,” Tim says peaceably. “She said she didn’t want you using this as an excuse to miss family night. Also something about Queen?”

“Since when has family night _ever_ been a thing?” Jason kicks the door in, and grins evilly at the dealer’s startled expression.

“Nice entrance.” Tim’s teeth flash white in the gloom. “Just since now. I think Nightwing’s trying to make up for, um, Batman. You know.”

“Are you sure,” Jason says, and pulls the dealer out of his chair by the collar of his shirt. “Because Robin made it out to be some kind of epic challenge. Like, _to the death challenge.”_

“Please,” Tim scoffs. “Robin wouldn’t—”

“We are talking about _Da—Robin_ ,” Jason reminds him.

Tim tilts his head in consideration. The dealer tries to wriggle free of his shirt; Jason punches him in the face.

“Out cold,” Tim notes. “Nice. Can we go now?”

“Go where?”

“Well, go drop him off at the GCPD first, of course,” Tim says. “But then we’re going to the bar, or the club or wherever it is we’re going for this karaoke challenge thing.”

“Why are we going to this again?”

“Robin,” Tim reminds him. “Karaoke challenge to the death. Also, I’m going so that you won’t have to take them on alone. It’s really quite generous of me.” He looks at Jason expectantly.

“Ugh, _fine,”_ Jason says, and hoists the dealer in a fireman’s carry. “Let’s go.”

Tim smiles. “You’re welcome.”

 

The bar, when they finally arrive five minutes past nine, is crowded and suspiciously sober. Jason remembers that Damian’s only ten, and wonders how Dick pulled it off.

Dick beams when he sees them, too relieved to attempt to hide it. “You _came,”_ he says, ecstatic, and Jason sighs.

“Yeah,” he says reluctantly. “Family night, right?”

Damian materializes at Dick’s elbow and glowers at them. “We will crush you,” he says ominously.

“It’s ‘we will _rock_ you,’” Babs murmurs at the next table. Her smile is soft, and her hand linked with Dinah’s.

Jason grins, pulls out the kid’s glove.

“Bring it,” he says, and Tim beams at his side.

“We have Freddie Mercury,” Tim says. “We cannot lose.”

 

They don’t win. But they don’t lose, either.

Well—technically, coming in second is still losing, as Damian irritably points out. But Steph and Cass blew everyone away with some Oz-inspired musical number, and even though Jason doesn’t tear up—he _doesn’t,_ shut up—he has to admit it. They rocked.

Babs and Dinah gleefully steal third with a slightly off-key rendition of a pop single that inexplicably has Babs slightly weepy at the end, and Dick and Damian slide in last with a truly terrible mashup that none of them can decipher. Tim guesses ABBA; Babs suggests the American Authors, and Steph swears she hears a strain of “Here Comes the Sun.” No one has any idea what Damian sings, but it sounds vaguely like what Jason thinks a Balrog might sound like first thing in the morning.

Fucking _terrifying._

“Hey,” he says to Dick as everyone’s leaving, Dinah and Babs vanishing off to Babs’ van with Steph and Cass in tow. “Just wondered—why the fuck did you pick karaoke?”

Dick looks at him, mouth curving softly. “Just wanted a good memory.”

“You can’t _sing_ , Dick.”

“Yeah.” Dick shrugs. “Everyone else can, though.”

Jason nudges him. “Yeah, well. It was. Nice.”

Dick hugs him tightly. It’s not as horrible as he thought it would be.

After a few seconds, Jason shrugs him off. “G’night, Dickiebird.”

“’Night, Jay.”

 

He flicks the lights on in his tiny apartment.

“Hello, bed,” Jason says.

“Do you normally talk to your furniture?” Tim asks idly, half-hidden behind the kitchen counter, and Jason starts in surprise.

“What are you—”

“Gameplan,” Tim says easily. “Next time, we’re winning.”

“Again,” Jason says, _“karaoke.”_

“Again, _Damian.”_

Jason sighs. “Fine, but I’m exhausted. See you in the morning.”

It’s oddly comforting, having someone else there; it feels nice, and safe, and right. He falls asleep to the sound of Tim humming softly across the apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanons for the karaoke:  
> Steph and Cass sing "For Good," of _course;_ Jason and Tim rock "Don't Stop Me Now," which also provided the fic's title; and Babs and Dinah sing "All the Single Ladies," which is a reference to The Brave and the Bold #33. 
> 
> Inspiration for Dick's unsuccessful mashup came from [this flawless mix](http://vonnegutz.tumblr.com/post/53239114849/who-do-i-think-i-am-good-question-really-and)


End file.
